


Forge

by dormiensa



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Humor, Matchmaking, Mild Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-06-22 22:20:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 15,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15592020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dormiensa/pseuds/dormiensa
Summary: Narcissa is tired of her son’s playboying ways and has enlisted Hermione to help break him of his habits.





	1. Chapter 1

Narcissa sighed.

The aftermath of the Second War had left her increasingly frustrated. While she and her son had been pardoned for any role they may or may not have played in support of Voldemort, Lucius, along with the remaining Death Eaters, was made an example by the Ministry. He received life-long imprisonment. Although, through Harry Potter's insistence, Lucius was given a fair trial and a chance to appeal in twenty-five years’ time, many felt his sentence too lenient. As a result, Lucius and all the other high-security prisoners were murdered within one year of their imprisonment. The Ministry declaimed all responsibility. Thankfully, the families of those prisoners were not persecuted, saved by the vigilance of several members of the Order of the Phoenix.

Even so, things had been hard. Voldemort’s obsession with blood status had turned the pure-blooded families, with a few exceptions, into second-class citizens in the new society being established. These families had reacted in typical fashion by retreating and pretending that they could still wield power within their ever-diminishing circles. This attitude, more than anything else, frustrated Narcissa. She had always been less zealous and more practical than Lucius, and she knew that integration into the new order was necessary, not only for survival but also the future happiness of her one and only son.

Her son. Narcissa sighed again. What was she going to do with him? He had chosen to reject Harry Potter’s offer to help him integrate, choosing, instead, to spend all his time and inheritance on tedious pleasures of alcohol and “congenial” company. When admonished, he had shrugged and stated that since the Malfoy line would likely end with him, he would be damned if he left a substantial portion of his inheritance to some poor, distant cousin. Narcissa had refrained from informing him that his successor was Harry Potter, knowing full well that their continued, one-sided “rivalry” was nothing more than a schoolboy’s grudge.

Well, she had reached the end of her patience with him. His life was going to amount to more than this inebriated subsistence. She had not been Sorted into Slytherin for her looks. But she had to tread carefully. If he figured out even a part of her scheme, Draco would bolt. The simple freezing of his assets would only address the symptoms of the problem, not its root. And so, she would raise the stakes and enlist the help of the last person he would ever expect to form a united front with her against him: Hermione Granger.


	2. Chapter 2

Not one to be idle, Narcissa arranged to have tea with Ms. Granger the following Saturday, having confirmed the young witch’s availability. The invitation had been vague, though it hinted at a business proposition. 

After they had exchanged pleasantries and sampled the tea that was set out, Narcissa began her pitch. She understood that Ms. Granger had formed a charity of her own to help re-build the lives of many victims of the Second War. While the important institutions like Gringotts and St. Mungo’s were obviously given priority and preference by the Ministry for compensation, many small businesses in Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade were either overlooked or under-compensated because of limited resources; the families that owned these businesses were middle-class citizens who were left with barely enough to support their daily needs and, therefore, did not have the means to re-establish their livelihood. Hermione had sympathized with their plight and had tried to organize fundraisers and other events in hopes of raising awareness and collecting donations. While she had gained much support—her fame working in her favour—the monies raised were not enough to recompense even half the petitioners to her charity. Narcissa understood Ms. Granger’s frustration and was willing to be a liaison to the pure-blooded families who were, shall we say, unaware of how they could contribute. 

Hermione was speechless but quickly overcame her surprise and thanked Mrs. Malfoy profusely for her kindness. She would make sure that the names of every generous donor would be made known to the beneficiaries and that the Ministry would be notified of candidates for the new awards for merit, created to give recognition to those who aided in the re-building of their fractured society. She could never truly repay Mrs. Malfoy for her offer, but if there was anything she could do, Mrs. Malfoy need only ask.

Narcissa’s smile gave the young Gryffindor some pause, but it was too late to retract her words. And never in a million years would Hermione have expected to repay the woman in such a manner. Narcissa would not compel Ms. Granger to grant this huge favour, but she would certainly be very grateful if Ms. Granger would at least give it some thought before refusing. Really, if Ms. Granger agreed, Narcissa would be forever in her debt.

Narcissa hoped that Ms. Granger would use her personal charm to convince her son to date her, exclusively, for six months, after which Ms. Granger was free to break up with him in whatever manner she chose. Narcissa had already chosen the perfect bride for her son, but she needed someone to groom him for this future role. She need not explain to Ms. Granger that Draco’s current behaviour was not even remotely suitable for his future responsibilities.

“Why me?” Hermione could not help but ask. Apparently, she was the only suitable candidate who was immune to his flirtations. There may have been one or two others that Narcissa considered, but they did not have the determination to see the plan through without either succumbing to Draco’s charms or keeping a steady eye on his inheritance. She would hardly lose her heart to a shallow playboy—yes, Narcissa admitted that he was a shameless one—but also possessed enough charm to perhaps leave Draco slightly broken-hearted when they eventually parted ways.

Hermione left Malfoy Manor with very confused thoughts.


	3. Chapter 3

“The Mudblood?!” 

“What in Merlin’s name were you thinking, you silly girl? I always said that that you were the wrong one for my grandson, but did anyone listen to me?”

“You can’t be serious, my dear. I do understand that the times have changed, but to sully the family line so outrageously! I cannot fathom the need! We still have money! We need not beg from those Muggle-loving sops!”

Narcissa waited until the cacophony died. Ignoring the other portraits, she stared intently at her husband’s and detailed her plan, explaining that times had indeed changed, that the Malfoys had always been able to succour their place in any new order simple _because_ they could adapt and insinuate themselves into positions of influence. They were respected by the other pure-blood families _because_ they managed to foresee the winds of change and to set the example that those families would eventually follow. Disappointed as she was that her grandchild would not be pure-blooded, her plan ensured that she would _have_ a grandchild. And given the rumours about some Muggle medicinal magic called “genetics”, she may even be blessed with _more than one_ grandchild. 

Well, that certainly gave the portraits some food for thought.

Lucius was the last to voice an opinion after she had given her explanation. He sighed. She was right: it was either adapt or dwindle into obscurity. And she always had a better way of manipulating their son than he could even emulate while he lived. She certainly had brains behind those lovely eyes, unlike his grandfather’s bride.

***

“Mrs. Malfoy! How can I help you?” A surprised Harry Potter looked up at the lady, who had apologized for interrupting his well-earned lunch hour, and quickly stood as he beckoned her into the empty chair in front of him.

“I will not keep you long, Mr. Potter. I do understand that you are terribly backlogged with Ministry matters. Your secretary had assured me that this would be the only time to speak with you, your appointments having been booked for the next two months.”

“Oh, Winnifred is just being over-protective. She treats me like one of her sons.”

“Indeed, but it is an admirable quality in the secretary of a busy and important man like you. I promised I would not take too much of your time, so pleasantries aside, I came to ask your assistance in a small, personal matter. I am hoping to break my son of his bad habits and prepare him for married life and the responsibilities of being the head of the family. To that effect, I have enlisted the help of Ms. Granger. After much consideration, her compassion overcame her scruples, and she has agreed to pose as Draco’s girlfriend for the upcoming several weeks and to help me groom him. Understandably, her hesitation lay in her fear that her friends would not approve, even if she were to tell them the truth of the matter. And here is my request to you: I would greatly appreciate if you would help her. You need not befriend my son—and he certainly does not deserve your goodwill after he refused your kind offer—but so long as you do not hinder my plans and could, perhaps, convince her other… friends to not interfere, that is all I ask.”

“Mrs.—Mrs. Malfoy, I don’t—I mean, how—why… Hermione _agreed_ to be his girlfriend?”

“Only in public and at social events, of course.”

“But… why?”

“It is strictly a business arrangement between us: she would grant me this favour in exchange for my help in soliciting funds from my friends for her charity.”

“I see. Well, so long as Hermione knows what she’s doing, she can always count on my support. I’ll smooth things over with the Weasleys. It’s a good thing she and Ron are not dating. But Mrs. Malfoy, I have to be honest: if your son harms her in any way, I cannot be held responsible for whatever happens to him.”

“Indeed, Mr. Potter. Rest assured that you and your friends would likely find his corpse if that were to come to pass. I would strangle the life out of him myself if he so much as makes her cry. Well, Mr. Potter, I thank you for your assistance in this matter. I did not wish to discomfort you by mentioning it, but your help more than sufficiently pays back that little life debt you owe me.”

Harry could only gape at her retreating back. _Damned Slytherins!_

***

“NO! Absolutely not! Voldemort can rise from the dead and _Crucio_ me!”

“I have been more than patient with you these past several months, Draco. I have had enough of your wanton behaviour! I have already been to Gringotts, and the money in your vault will only sustain you for another month. Now, you will go upstairs and freshen up, and then you will accompany me to the event. You will choose a proper witch—proper as defined by _my_ standards! —and you will court her until she agrees to be your girlfriend. And you must keep her as your girlfriend and be faithful to her for six months. If you disobey me, I will disinherit you and give everything to your next-of-kin. I hesitated to mention this before, but you have goaded me beyond endurance: Harry Potter stands to inherit everything if you are disowned!”

“That… that… _Mother_! You wouldn’t dare!”

“I’ve already filed the paperwork. Once I send an owl, Gringotts will immediately give ownership of the new vault I’ve created to Mr. Potter. I’ve had quite enough of your whining. Go upstairs and get ready!”

Draco Apparated into his rooms, fuming. _She won’t get away with this!_ Potter! Potter to succeed him! Over his dead body!


	4. Chapter 4

Draco Malfoy did not want to be here. He scowled from a dark corner of the ballroom. Why was his mother being so unreasonable? Surely, after all that they’d been through, he deserved a bit of happiness? He knew his duty to the family, and he would certainly settle down at some point, but what was the rush? 

The ball was swarming with people. It was the reason he hated attending these functions. He noticed that, in spite of all the talk about unity and forgoing social prejudices, most of the witches and wizards still mingled with “their own crowd”. Only a handful were making their rounds, and most of these were Ministry employees and, therefore, _paid_ to liaise. He noticed some looks sent his way by some of the witches his age, and not all the glances were friendly. He’d dated and dumped several of them. Oh no, Pansy was approaching. He loved the woman like a sister, but she was a worse nag than his mother, and he had little patience for scolding right now. He gave the perfunctory greeting and scowled at her, daring her to mother him. She smirked. She’d heard that he was finally turning over a new leaf and trying out monogamy for the first time. She recalled he’d stopped being monogamous at the age of eight—was he feeling nervous about being out of practice? He need not fear, really. It pained her to admit it, but he was still a handsome bloke with a large disposable income—oh, she apologized, he’d _had_ a disposable income, but, don’t worry, he still had his looks—so, it shouldn’t be too difficult to find a witch willing to put up with his nasty personality for a few months. She was sure that any witch that lasted more than a week would start getting an allowance from a grateful Narcissa. So, cheer up, dear boy. Anyway, she’d just wanted to come over to tell him that if he needed any advice about girlfriends, her door was always open.

If looks could kill, Pansy would have crumbled to dust on the spot. 

He tossed down his drink and grabbed another. He was surrounded by bitches! Well, he wasn’t about to let them dictate his life. He would pretend to conform to his mother’s wishes and suffer the shackles for six months. Or wait… why not find the ugliest, snottiest, most awkward witch he could find and make his mother insist that he break all ties with the woman? Why not choose a witch that was sure to embarrass his mother at one of her “social” gatherings at the Manor? A proper but unsuitable prospective Malfoy bride. A gold-digger would be an added bonus. He could be scot-free in a week!

Now, to find the shrew…

Hermione had not even finished her first drink when she noticed Draco Malfoy heading her way. She had not expected him to make the first overture. Apparently, the game was afoot, and she would _not_ make a fool of herself. Nonetheless, she was speechless when he started talking pleasantries, inquiring ever so politely how she had been in recent years and my, she had grown into a lovely woman since their school days. _What the hell is going on?_ A suspicion grew as he began to outright flirt with her: his mother had told him to find a girlfriend tonight, and he had chosen her. Well, that certainly played into the plan, and it saved her the trouble of having to _somehow_ convince him that she was (shudder) interested in being his girlfriend. 

And so, for the remainder of the evening, Hermione allowed Malfoy to court her. She was never one to play coy, but she knew that she could not allow him to think she was an easy conquest—he would lose interest very quickly. And so, she was friendly one moment, aloof the next. She’d call him on his prejudices and give her blunt opinions on what she thought was wrong about the new society that the Ministry was trying to rebuild. Then, she’d smile flirtingly at him and ask him to dance with her. 

Draco was confused: who the hell was this woman? What happened to the prissy, brainy, plain-looking witch who had bickered constantly with him at school? 

Privately, both Hermione and Draco were aware that they were garnering quite a bit of attention from the crowds. Hermione could not help but notice that Harry was observing them intently, that Ron was a bit red in the face, and that Narcissa was beaming. Draco noted with amusement that Pansy’s eyes were about to pop out of her head. His Slytherin mates would grill him later, he was sure, but for the time being, he baited their curiosity by focussing his attention on Granger. Merlin, if she were like this all the time, the next few weeks would pass by quite pleasantly. It was a pity that the charade would be of such short duration, but no witch, no matter how witty, attractive, _fascinating_ she was, could compete with his freedom. But he fully intended to enjoy himself while it lasted.

By the end of their dance, a small voice in her head commented that it really wasn’t all that difficult to flirt with Draco Malfoy—at least, the pleasant, charming, witty Draco Malfoy in front of her. But then a more cynical voice told her to be on her guard. Against what? Succumbing to the obvious physical attraction between them and having a romp in bed? Falling in love? Oh, surely not _that_. Who on earth could ever fall in love with Draco Malfoy? 

Sometimes, Hermione really hated the voices in her head.

“Granger?”

“I’m sorry, my mind was distracted. What did you say?”

“I asked if you would like to get some fresh air. It’s a bit warm in here.”

“Oh! Yes, thanks. It _is_ a bit stuffy and crowded.” 

He escorted her to the terrace. Made some inane observations about the peaceful surroundings, the brightness of the moon, how lovely she looked tonight… _wait, what?_ She found herself in his arms, his eyes staring intently at her lips. He leaned closer. 

_Wait, this is moving too fast!_

_Oh, for heaven’s sake, just kiss the boy! You’re supposed to play the game, remember?_

_But I don’t even like him!_

_Oh, quit being such a prude—I hear he’s a fantastic kisser!_

_But… ohhhhhh, that feels… mmmmm…_

_Uh oh, we’re in trouble now…_


	5. Chapter 5

Draco had had an elaborate day planned for his first date with Hermione. He knew that his mother would be monitoring his every move for the next few weeks, and he didn’t want to give her any more reason to further restrict his movements. However, on the morning of the intended first date, Draco awoke to the realization that he’d have to spend an entire day with _Hermione Granger_. He groaned.

He mulled over his plans during breakfast. He finally decided to spend a typical day of leisure and allow Granger to tag along. If her company proved tedious, he could at least derive some pleasure while pursuing his usual pastimes. 

Hence, they began their first date having brunch at his favourite patisserie in Aix-en-Provence. He was astonished to learn that she was familiar with French food; in fact, her favourite dessert was puff pastry. This happened to be the patisserie’s specialty.

After a discussion extolling the superiority of French cooking over English, Draco brought her to the road along which were located a whole series of curio shops. They idly browsed two antique shops before stepping into his favourite: a small bookshop that only stocked the most obscure, hard-to-find, likely out-of-print books. He knew that the bookish Granger would feel right at home, but he hadn’t counted on an enthusiasm for old, dusty books to match his own. She scurried up every ladder, perused every shelf, and, generally, behaved like a young wizard in Honeyduke’s. He was surprised several times to hear her ask the proprietor about certain single-edition works. Her French was impeccable. When he interrupted her browsing about it, she tersely replied that she had taken lessons in Muggle school and had vacationed in France with her parents many times, and, if he didn’t mind, she was in search of a book that the owner assured her was on one of the shelves. The book turned out to be the only surviving copy of Thomas Browne’s translation of Appolonius’ _Mystical Plants of India and their Magical Properties_. He had been looking for that book for ages! The owner had insisted in the past that the book had been sold, but it seemed there was a misunderstanding between them: the owner had assumed that he had wanted the English translation and not the French. Apparently, Browne had been bilingual. Hermione very graciously told him that she only wanted to check a fact in the book, so he was welcome to purchase it. When he demurred, claiming that she should have it, since she found it first, she paid for it and presented it to him. He did not refuse.

After they left the bookshop, they browsed the remaining shops and proceeded to partake of an early supper. Over their meal, their conversation naturally centred around the rare books that they had read. Draco discovered that she had purposely taken lessons in Greek to read Ptolemy’s _Optics_. He offered to lend her a book in the Malfoy library that consisted of notes made by a Great-Uncle Claudius, who, like her, had tried to read the work in its original language.

The first date came to an end when they Portkeyed back to Diagon Alley. Hermione declined his suggestion of ice cream at Fortescue’s because she was still full from supper, but she would take a rain cheque on it, if that was all right.

Draco would never admit it aloud to anyone, but this was the best date he had ever been on. It was a pity, really, that this was just a ruse. When Granger put aside her unsavoury Gryffindor demeanour, she was actually great company. She was unpretentious and had an open, easy-going manner that made him feel very relaxed and comfortable around her. And she had an unbelievably sarcastic wit. Not one of his past girlfriends had ever seen his true smile, the one that wasn’t mockingly polite or condescendingly amused.

_Be careful, Draco. This was not a real date. She’s your ticket out of your mother’s trap. Stay focussed._

_Oh, piss off. Can’t a boy have a bit of fun on the side? She finds me irresistible._

This was also the simplest, almost vulgarly common, date he had ever had. Whatever had possessed him to invite her for a chat in his favourite café was working. And she loved puff pastry. Had always loved it, ever since her first introduction to it at age three, on her first trip to Paris. 

Had he accidentally swallowed some Felix Felicis with breakfast?


	6. Chapter 6

The euphoria of his first date with Granger having dissipated, Draco realized that he was in danger of complying with his mother’s plans to reform him. And so, he Owled Granger and asked her to show him what a typical Muggle date entailed. 

“And where did you and Ms. Granger go tonight, my Dragonet?”

“She insisted on taking me on a ‘typical Muggle date’, as she called it. We went to a theatre for a movie, which is a series of photographs linked together to tell an entire story. The things those silly Muggles do for entertainment! Watching moving pictures instead of live actors on stage! Afterward, she brought me to a dingy little Indian restaurant. She said they had the best curry in town. Well, the food was passable, but the place was a complete dump. I’ll have to get Knobby to thoroughly launder my clothes.”

“Oh, Draco, you can be so snooty sometimes—so like your father. I think it’s wonderful that you’re learning about the Muggle world. After all, you’re dating a Muggle-born, so you must try to be more at ease in their world. I’m sure you’ll adapt wonderfully after a few more tries. I have every confidence in you. Now, you’ve had a long day, so you’d best go upstairs and prepare for bed.”

“All right. Good night, Mother.” 

Draco sat in his bed, bewildered by his mother’s reaction. He had been so sure that she would be aghast that he had ventured into Muggle London. It was why he persuaded Granger to plan the day. _Granger_. A smile tugged his lips. The way she laughed in the theatre. The way she teased him about eating his curry so properly—she was surprised his little finger wasn’t raised when he dipped his naan into the sauce. The way she responded to his good-night kiss…

He shook his head. What was wrong with him? Then it hit him: he hadn’t had a proper shag in three weeks. Well, his mother may have put a charm on him that would alert her if he went in search of _any loose woman to satisfy your carnal desires_ , but she had never forbidden him to wank off in the shower. He whistled as he walked into the adjoining bathroom.

***

Ever since Hermione made mention that Draco had approached her even before she had had a chance to instigate their plan, Narcissa had been suspicious. However, now that he had proposed that Hermione be included in the monthly Afternoon Tea, she understood. Consequently, she invited Hermione for luncheon the day before and peppered her with questions to get a better understanding of her background, her job at the Ministry, her interests, and her opinions on certain issues. In turn, she gave Hermione a brief biography of each of the ladies that would be present at Tea the following day. She knew that Ms. Granger could handle any one of them, but she wanted to give her as much ammunition as possible. These ladies had little contact with people outside their narrow circles, so Ms. Granger would have to overlook their _faux pas_. Hermione was very grateful. She asked that Narcissa call her by her first name, since they needed to give the appearance of being well-acquainted. Narcissa agreed and asked the young witch to do the same.

Narcissa was even more impressed with the young witch after their talk. If Hermione had been born of wizarding parents, her social standing would not be that far beneath many pure-blood families, and she would, therefore, have been a suitable match for any number of young wizards. Even if the young witch did not catch the eye of any of the ladies tomorrow, she most assuredly would after the charity ball. Narcissa would make sure that it was a success.

On her end, Hermione was rather shocked at the first names of some of the ladies she was to meet. It seemed that Greek names were in vogue among their mothers, but it was also clear that said mothers had had no idea how the names originated. She would need to school her features when she put faces to the ridiculous names.

Many curious eyes fixed onto Hermione after introductions were made. Narcissa was pleased to see that Hermione handled the scrutiny with calm and grace. Pheme Greengrass was unsuccessful in discomforting Hermione with snide comments about the Weasleys. Hermione smilingly told of Bill’s renown as Gringotts’ most sought-after curse-breaker; in fact, he was recently rewarded by the German Ministry for helping them with a troublesome artifact, and of course Mrs. Greengrass knew how reluctant the Germans were to seek outside help, since they had produced the greatest number of famous curse-breakers themselves. Not being at the Ministry, Mrs. Greengrass probably was not aware that Arthur Weasley was now an indispensable consultant to the Head of the Liaison Office for Muggle Relations because of his understanding of Muggle objects. Wasn’t it such a reversal of fortunes? Arthur used to be considered odd because of his love of Muggle things. Hermione also understood that Mrs. Greengrass was very fond of a new fad dessert called Jell-O Marshmallow Parfait. Did she know that it was originally a Muggle dessert that was recently introduced to the wizarding world by the makers of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans, who were looking for new flavours for their new line? The flavour was so popular that patrons demanded to know its source and, as a result, discovered an extra choice on the dessert menus of many restaurants. 

Adephagia Macnair commented that Ms. Granger seemed to be a very well-informed young lady. She confessed that her son had given her quite a mistaken impression, but she supposed it was the prejudice of House rivalries. Hermione admitted that the rivalries certainly prevented her from being better acquainted with all the students of her year, and it truly was unfortunate because while he was Headmaster, Dumbledore had always been an advocate of interhouse unity and had been even more vocal after the return of Vold—oh, begging Mrs. Macnair’s pardon, You-Know-Who. But now that the threat was gone, Hermione certainly hoped that Dumbledore’s vision would be embraced by all wizards.

A brief silence followed Hermione’s pronouncement, but she did not seem the least perturbed by it. She politely asked Lytta Zabini where she got her new robes as she had not seen that particular shade of wisteria in the shops here. Mrs. Zabini haughtily replied that she shopped exclusively in Paris. Indeed, how interesting! Did Mrs. Zabini frequent the shop of Madame St. Just? Laverna Crabbe chimed in to say that Madame St. Just had a waiting list several parchments long and the next appointment was in three years. How far down the list was Lytta now? Lytta Zabini pretended not to hear her. Narcissa mildly observed to Hermione that she was indeed fortunate to have bought a set of robes from Madame. Hermione had to remind her, how _did_ she get an introduction? Hermione replied that she had been working on a liaison project with the French Ministry, and the French Ambassador had kindly invited her to dinner at his home, where she met his wife, a regular patron of Madame’s. Hermione had been nervous about meeting the famous seamstress as she was reputed to be an austere lady, but the rumours proved untrue. Madame had the most lively sense of humour. She confided to Hermione that she had to appear formidable or else no one would take her seriously—she was afflicted with an idiot for a husband.

From the polite, pleasant conversation that followed, it seemed that Hermione’s estimation had gone up in the eyes of the company. At least, none of them seemed willing to confront her directly. Narcissa was a charming hostess and knew when to soothe and how to steer the topics of discussion. She soon found an opening to inform the ladies of Hermione’s plans to host a charity ball to aid the victims of the recent calamity. Hints at improved social standings and assurance for their children’s future happiness fell onto susceptible ears. Hermione admitted to being a novice at planning such events; she would welcome any suggestions that the ladies could give. The drawing room came to life as the ladies excitedly shared views and argued over details. 

Narcissa smiled at Hermione and gave a discreet nod. Hermione smiled back.

***

As the ladies departed, Narcissa held Hermione back, telling her that many of the Malfoy women over the generations had been well-known hostesses and several had kept journals detailing how they planned their elaborate events. If Hermione was interested, she was welcomed to peruse them in the Malfoy library. But first, Narcissa had to retrieve something that would allow her unlimited access to the books and the Manor—she did not want her guest to be hexed; the Malfoys had always been very possessive. Narcissa returned with a bracelet in the form of a snake made of interlaced moonsilver threads. She dismissed Hermione’s hesitation on accepting what was clearly a family heirloom, assuring the young witch that it was a mere trinket.

Narcissa left Hermione to pore eagerly over the first few books she had pulled from the shelves.


	7. Chapter 7

“Draco, dear, I’m afraid you will need to relocate yourself this evening. Gwendolen Nott had originally planned a soiree at the Nott estate, but she’s had to change the venue after Theodore’s crazy uncle set fire to the East Wing—he wanted to smoke out the doxy he claimed was playing hide-and-seek with him. The gathering will be held here instead. Do you think you could find some amusement for yourself tonight? Perhaps you could see if Ms. Granger is available to keep you company?”

Not having made plans and anxious to be out of the house before the Veela descended upon it, he Owled Hermione. It turned out that she did, in fact, have plans, but he was welcome to join her. Her friend Susan Bones was heading an amateur production of Shakespeare’s _Much Ado About Nothing_ to raise funds for the Holyhead Harpies. 

“Shakespeare?”

“Oh, come on, Draco, you must have heard of Shakespeare.”

“Of course I have. The most famous Slytherin to come from Hogwarts.”

“The most—I’ve never read that!”

“Of course you haven’t. Most of the history books don’t mention it. You’d only know it if you were Sorted into the House. ‘Shakespeare’ was a penname, of course. His real name was George Llewellyn. Not a very interesting name, is it? Bloke always had a talent for writing, but his widowed mother wanted him to settle down, do his duty to the family, and she found him a dull Ministry job correcting Potions textbooks. So, during his off-time, he wrote plays on the sly to amuse himself.”

“But how did the non-wizarding community know his plays?”

“Oh, Burbage was a spy for the Ministry—those were tumultuous times, you know, the Ministry needed tabs on the Muggle royal courts—and the playhouse provided the perfect front for him and his staff.”

“That—that’s just incredible.”

“Well, as Sherlock Holmes said, ‘Art in the blood is liable to take the strangest forms.’”

“ _Don’t_ tell me Holmes was also in Slytherin!”

“Oh no, he’s a fictional character, although based on a best friend of Doyle’s. Don’t remember the name, but the bloke was in Ravenclaw. Doyle himself was a Squib. Always fascinated with Divination—guess it was a form of magic that he understood or something. It certainly didn’t require any particularly strong magical ability—you have the Sight or you don’t.” 

“My head is spinning.”

“My book knowledge too overwhelming, is it? Didn’t think I could read?”

“It’s not that. Although,”—She gave a sly grin.—“I would assume you would consider Shakespeare the second most famous Slytherin, after Voldemort.”

“ _Famous_ , Granger. The Dark Lord was the most _infamous_ Slytherin. Surely you know the difference.”

“Of course I do! I just assumed—”

“Must we go through all that again? Yes, my father and I made some stupid mistakes in our lives, but _surely_ you’ve learned to see past that? You wouldn’t date a Death Eater and ruin your reputation as—”

“I’m sorry, Draco. I was just teasing. I didn’t mean to bring up the past and—”

“Hermione! Oh, Athena be thanked! You’ve got to help me!” Susan Bones had rushed over. She frantically and rather breathlessly explained that two of her actors could not make the performance tonight due to injury. Ginny Weasley had hurt herself during Quidditch practice and her partner in the play had an accident working on something for the Ministry. Could Hermione and Malfoy please play the parts, just for tonight? She was desperate.

“But Susan—I don’t mean to leave you in a lurch—we don’t have the lines memorized or anything!”

“Oh, don’t worry. I have the text in memory vials. You just need to insert them—through the right ear is quickest, I find.”

“You have memory—you mean you don’t have to memorize the lines?”

“Are you kidding? Wizarding actors have done it for ages! Surely you didn’t think the oral tradition lasted as long and was as successful by having people sit and do nothing all day but memorize every word, do you? The storytellers embellished, added, and incorporated other stories they gathered and then passed their memories onto their successors!”

“Well, I guess I should be all right. Draco?” He shrugged but did not decline. “Susan, you do know we don’t have experience acting?”

“Don’t worry, the audience won’t care. It’s a comedy, anyway.”

“All right. What parts are we playing?”

“Beatrice and Benedick.”


	8. Chapter 8

The Fates were being bitches. Why were all his dates with Hermione turning into the best ones he’d ever had? If he wasn’t careful, he’d find himself shackled to the witch for real. It was already bad enough that his mother, along with her Veela entourage, seemed to approve of the witch. Who would’ve thought the awkward, bookish Gryffindor from school could one day take on the vultures and be considered worthy? 

There was nothing for it: he had to change tactics. He had to tackle the witch herself and get _her_ to instigate the end of the charade. 

And so, Draco found himself interrupting her at work one Friday afternoon to ask what she had planned for the weekend and whether she was free on Sunday. He was fully aware that she spent her Sundays with the rodent family in their hovel. Nonetheless, he insisted on accompanying her to The Burrow, to her dismay.

“Oh, come on, Granger. It’s not as if your friends are unaware that we’re dating. Our pictures keep making their way into the society pages of the _Daily Prophet_. Did you see the large one of us in full Shakespearean get-up?”

Hermione was torn. She knew his request made sense, and it was important to keep up appearances. She had, of course, told the Weasley clan and Harry about the true circumstances of her mock relationship, and, truth be told, she was surprised that they protested so little. It was a relief, one less source of stress, but it was surprising. And now, another surprise awaited her: she never imagined that Draco would willingly offer to spend time with her bunch. Well, so be it.

Draco was completely baffled to be received with such politeness and affability when they arrived on Sunday. Molly fussed over him like she did with all her brood, which included Hermione, and Arthur even made a point of seeking his views on the newest Ministry policy regarding tariffs on imported broomsticks from South America, where there was poor quality control over the harvesting of endangered trees.

However, even the _Pax Romana_ had met its end. 

“Checkmate!”

“Jadis’ jammed arse!”

“You know, Weasley, I always pegged you an arseman. Seems I was right!”

The chessboard was turned over, the pieces scattered all over. Hexes were thrown about and hit the furniture.

The commotion was suddenly over. Only two heavy thuds marred the silence.

Hermione stared disapprovingly down at both of them, having sent two non-verbal _Petrificus Totalus_ spells. “I can’t leave you two alone for a moment! First it was Quidditch in school, now it’s chess! Why can’t you just learn to get along? Well, come along, Malfoy, we’ve outworn our welcome. I’m going to say my goodbyes, then I’m Apparating you home.”

Outside the gates of the Manor, Hermione scolded him on how he had embarrassed her in front of her second family and told him not to owl her ever again because they were through. She removed the spell and Apparated away. 

Draco Apparated to his room. Well, his plan worked. But why was he upset by the tears in her eyes?

***

Narcissa was furious when she discovered the estrangement. She knew Draco was to blame. And so, she sent an owl to invite Hermione to tea. She apologized for her son’s bad behaviour and hoped that Hermione would still come for the next Afternoon Tea with the ladies. They had responded well at the first gathering, but they still needed to be convinced about the charity. Hermione was surprised, for she assumed their agreement was now over, since she had failed her end of the bargain, but Narcissa tutted. It was Draco’s loss. Narcissa assured Hermione that she would always be welcome at the Manor and that she need not hesitate to continue browsing the library for her research.

***

Hermione’s perusal of Andromache Malfoy’s journal entry on how to arrange the seating at large balls was interrupted by a surprised “I beg your pardon, I’ll leave you alone.” She looked up to see Draco about to exit. She stopped him and apologized for overreacting that day at The Burrow. She knew that it was unreasonable to expect that he and her two friends could simply ignore their past encounters and become friendly overnight.

Draco was feeling a bit guilty himself for having sunk to Weasley’s level and upsetting Hermione, and he apologized in turn for embarrassing her. Could they start over, perhaps as friends? She smiled. He invited her to an impromptu picnic by the pond at the back of the house and went to speak with the house-elves. The two of them spent a congenial afternoon discussing their favourite music and discovered they shared a love for the tympanic compositions of Bartok. 

When he walked her to the gates, she said goodbye and gave him an impulsive kiss on the cheek.


	9. Chapter 9

He was back to square one. What was the matter with him? Back to the drawing boards it was. 

He brought her broom-racing with his friends. She was the only girl. He discovered, to the delight of his scheming brain, that she was afraid of heights. He coerced and cajoled and managed to finally convince her to try. They shared a broom, and he managed to stem a bit of her fear. But ultimately, he couldn’t resist bringing her higher to see how loud she squealed.

Not yet satisfied with his handiwork, he decided to ask her what her parents did for a living over luncheon. That led to broader topics regarding tooth health and aesthetics. 

“You mean Muggles use bits of wire to force their teeth to grow straight? That’s barbaric!”

“What else could they do? They don’t have magic mirrors to fix their teeth!”

“The mirror is only for accidents! We were given potions to drink as soon as our adult teeth started growing. It made sure they grew straight and to the correct size so as not to crowd the others. I started drinking mine at five.”

“Well, weren’t you the precocious child.”

“It’s about time you recognized my genius.”

“Hmph. What you could use is an ego-deflating potion.”

“What do Muggles use to cure know-it-all tendencies?”

“You know, Muggle Healers used to perform surgeries on those they considered abnormal to prevent them from having children. St. Mungo’s should really consider that for insufferable gits.”

“The Ministry should put tracing charms on all employees to prevent them from spreading discord among the populace.”

“What the Ministry _should_ have done was limit the privileges of snobby pure-blood families so that they wouldn’t feel a sense of superiority. Maybe that way, they could’ve ensured that Voldemort never rose to power.”

“I suppose you also think the Ministry should have re-hired the Dementors to guard Azkaban and administer the Kiss instead of wasting time setting up trials?”

“No! I didn’t mean—I’m sorry, I forgot that—”

“How convenient for you. But then, I don’t suppose you care that they were all murdered. _It wasn’t_ your _father_!” 

Draco disappeared with a loud *pop*. Hermione buried her head in her arms, wondering for the umpteenth time why she agreed to be his girlfriend. No, what she meant was his mock date.

***

“Mrs. Malfoy! How… lovely to see you again! How can I help you?”

“Well, Mr. Potter, since you have been so kind as to assist me with my little problem with my son, I’m sure you wouldn’t mind lending a hand once again. It seems there is still some residual resentment from their school days that the two of them are trying to resolve. This is the second time they have fought and insisted, like children, on ending their relationship, and it is simply unacceptable! I have already attempted one reconciliation, but it seems that pressure from other quarters will be necessary. If it would not cause too much inconvenience to you and Mrs. Potter, I feel the simplest plan would be to invite both of them to dinner with you and try to talk some sense into them. I know I can trust you to use every means possible to fix the problem. After all, you managed to deceive the Dark Lord, by no means an easy feat. Well, good day, Mr. Potter! I look forward to your successful report!”

_Whoever thought that Voldemort was intimidating clearly has not met Narcissa Malfoy!_

***

Harry discussed things with Susan, and they both decided that the only way to coerce Malfoy into having dinner with them was to invite him over on the pretense that the Holyhead Harpies needed a consultant for their upcoming match because their usual tactician (who happened to be Ron) was unavailable. Susan knew she could get the team to play along, since they owed her a favour after the success of _Much Ado about Nothing_. The team would conveniently meet at five o’clock so that, by the time Harry and Hermione came home from work, it would be dinner hour. Harry had the easier job of guilting Hermione to go home with him for dinner, teasing her that he and Susan had hardly spent time with her now that she had a significant other.

As soon as Hermione walked in and saw Draco lounging with the girls on the team, she knew she’d been had. Harry caught up with her at the door and reminded her that she still needed Narcissa Malfoy’s help to set up her charity ball. She had never allowed Malfoy’s bad manners to bother her in school, so why was she so upset by his antics now? Besides, it’s not as if they were really dating. If she started behaving like a pouting girlfriend, she’d soon forget that it was all a pretense. Hermione grudgingly admitted that Harry was right. 

Having schooled her features, Hermione greeted Draco with composure, and she proceeded to speak to him with the utmost politeness. Dinner was a riotous affair with a table full of talkative Quidditch players. The camaraderie was infectious, and Hermione and Draco soon forgot their tiff and joined in the lively discussion. 

After dinner, the team tried to make the most use of the fading sunlight to try out some of Draco’s tactics. Susan and Hermione watched from the sidelines, providing drinks and witty commentary when certain plays did not work out. 

The team called it a night and left the two couples to share a late evening aperitif. Susan brought out her famous Chocolate Hazelnut Terrine with Raspberry Sauce, which she had been saving for the four of them. When she judged that the couple was sufficiently buzzed from the euphoria of the evening, Susan sprung the idea of a double date and received an affirmative.

Before they fell asleep that night, Susan murmured to Harry that it was a pity the two were not dating for real—they made a very interesting pair.


	10. Chapter 10

Narcissa was very pleased with the success of the double date, although she felt it unfortunate that the Potters had chosen such a public venue. She knew that ever since Sixth-Year, Draco had developed a keen aversion to unwanted mass scrutiny. Not wanting the situation to unravel once again, she tactfully suggested to Hermione that she spend some time at the Manor and perhaps bring him into Muggle London, for anonymity. 

When Draco returned from those dates in a happier mood, she convinced him that it was his idea to take Hermione to the Quidditch match between the Holyhead Harpies and the Kenmare Kestrels.

***

Draco was nearing the end of his tether. Why wouldn’t the infuriating witch conform to expectation? Why did she have to end up enjoying herself when she was meant to be disgusted? The Quidditch game (although, in hindsight, that had been a stupid idea; he had forgotten that her two idiot best friends loved the sport), even Pansy’s birthday celebration, attended exclusively by Slytherins, had not fazed her. In fact, she had single-handedly put several of his friends in their places; House solidarity would never allow him to admit it aloud, but he felt that the infuriating witch was spot-on for some of them. Yet, in spite of her scathing assessment of his friends, she could not see the blatant defects in her own friends and had thrown such a fit when he teased the loser Weasley. He would never understand women. He fully intended to remain a bachelor. All he needed was some way to get rid of her.

What could possibly shake that Gryffindor confidence? 

And then it hit him: it was brilliant! But he had to plan it out thoroughly. And he needed a logical progression. No use starting with the shock factor only to make the follow-through a disappointment. But where to start? He vaguely recalled the prim English rose mention family in Scotland, so that was out of the question. Besides, he could list several more shocking and exotic locales without even making an effort. 

He would need the memoirs of a Great Uncle from a few generations back. The man was crazy—even the family considered him an unmentionable—and his claims that he stole a Time Turner to go back to sample the most fantastical dishes were generally accepted as myth. But that aside, the dishes he described were certainly among the most exotic and unusual in the world, and there were plenty of other references to verify their existence and popularity. Well, most of the dishes. He doubted that Great Uncle Diomasach ever managed to retrieve one of the chopped heads of the Lernaean Hydra and stew it in fish broth, especially not after it was described as being “chicken-like in flavour”. But it was a good starting point.

Finally, a plan without possibility of failure.

He Owled to ask when Hermione would be available for a four-day excursion. She replied that in two weeks’ time, she would be able to take a long weekend. He asked her to pack lightly but refused to supply any details about their destination. 

He brought her to the top of the Rocky Mountains, where they had to jump off a precipice to enter the wizarding community there and find the restaurant that served the best Rocky Mountain oysters. He then Portkeyed them to Dar es Salaam to try Tanzanian supu. He had observed her reactions carefully when the dishes were explained. She was surprised, certainly, but game. Well, this was only a start. He could not yet rule out bravado.

He then brought her to Rio de Janeiro, where they had to dance a samba to pass through the barrier into the magical side of the city. He ordered a feast of unusual dishes at a perpetual hole-in-the-wall café: Chiguire arepa to start, followed by a tasting menu of Picante de cuy, Nutria chili, Glis glis, and curry stew Agouti. This was the only restaurant in the Americas that served a truly international array of similarly-themed dishes. 

Hermione had caught onto his game as soon as they arrived at the café. She had never eaten here, but she had visited a similar restaurant in Belize. If he was going to play dirty, she would show him. After their meal, which she thoroughly enjoyed, though she was thankful she wasn’t sharing it with Ron, she asked if he would mind if she planned their evening meal. He was taken aback, but he never could resist a challenge, not from her, especially.

She brought him to the Dr. Sun Yat-sen Memorial Hall in Guangzhou. After reciting a Li Bai poem to a blank wall, she led him through narrow streets to _her_ favourite restaurant. Its owner had been a sailor for ten years before deciding to open a business that showcased his favourite foods from his travels around the Far East and Southeast Asia. She ordered the Offal Feast in Cantonese and saw Draco’s eyes widen as the dishes were presented. The owner himself, having recognized his favourite English customer, came over to explain the dishes and loudly proclaim that only the Orientals knew how to properly cook offal. Having had non-Asian-styled forms of offal, most recently Tanzanian supu, Hermione did not contradict him. She secretly conceded that the tastes and techniques were most varied in Asian cuisine, but one needed to stimulate the palate with different textures every so often. 

After dinner, Hermione suggested that they sample the abundant nightlife before turning in for the night. Draco had been a mostly silent dinner companion, having been much too enthralled with the myriad of dishes offered. He acquiesced, but both of them knew that the game was truly afoot. And there could only be one victor.

And so began their whirlwind culinary adventure. 

The next day found them in Petra, trying different varieties of insects and reptiles. Hermione had never seen so many different ways of cooking them nor did she realize that they were a delicacy to so many different cultures worldwide. Her planned steamed shark’s head dish in Singapore paled by comparison, although Draco ate it with relish. She had better success in Bangkok, where they visited an orchard of exotic fruits. The eccentric mage had managed to manipulate the soil and weather to grow some of the most bizarre-looking fruits from around the world. Kiwano melon, Dragon Fruit, Buddha’s Hand, Black Sapote, Sapodilla, Salak, Rambutan, Jackfruit, Mangosteen, Noi-na, Guanabana: Draco tried them all. But he was defeated by Durian. The pungent smell and soft, smooth texture made him want to vomit. Hermione’s smirk taunted him. He would get her back tomorrow. But first, he needed a bucket and something to settle his stomach.

Draco felt the third day would prove him the absolute victor. And it seemed to be so. He had taken her globe-trotting to sample his favourite preparations of several magical beasts. It was a veritable _The Monster Book of Monsters_ on a platter. However, instead of sampling the foods by continent, Draco had her tasting them by either type or theme, and they often jumped from place to place to try just one dish. He started her with a light fare: Horklump in a clear broth and Devil’s Snare salad with Murtlap and a balsamic vinaigrette. He introduced her next to the seafoods: curried fire crab, pan-fried Plimpy with tomatoes and onions, grilled Cipactli with lime juice, and smoked Grootslang. A tasting menu of meats followed: Swedish Short-Snout cooked with Firewhisky, a double-dish of cold Fwooper and Caladrius, Mapinguari cooked with various nuts, Peryton in a wild blueberry sauce, Granian with a cucumber-mint sauce, and Bunyip chili. As was to be expected, Draco saved the best and most bizarre for last: the hybrids. They had Cockatrice cooked over an open fire and Wolpertinger stuffed with berries and sweet grasses and glazed with honey. Finally, dessert was Runespoor cooked three different ways with various medicinal herbs.

Hermione noted with some confusion that Draco had not ordered any dishes that would surely have disgusted her: Hippogriff, Gryffin, and any type of magical feline or canine. She wondered if he was being inexplicably considerate or if the creatures were truly inedible. She hoped it was the former but made no comment to him.

The fourth and final day got off to a slow start. Both Draco and Hermione were feeling somewhat saturated from three continuous days of trying unusual foods and trying to outdo one another. However, both were determined to not admit defeat, and so the race began with a trip to Italy’s Sardinia, for Casu Marzu. At first, Draco thought that Hermione’s mumblings were self-encouragement to will herself to taste the bizarre cheese, but the occasional word that he caught proved them to be spells to ensure the food was clean and hygienic. Hermione further impressed him by only taking a few sips of the chaser wine that was proffered. 

Lunch found them on the island of Palau, one of the Micronesian Islands of the Pacific. Hermione ordered their renowned olik soup, a dish that Draco had been curious to try but had not up to that point found the time to sample. The soup was surprisingly delicate, although it was made with coconut milk. As they ate in the quiet outdoor café, surrounded by the sound of ocean and local birds, he found himself re-thinking his plans for this bizarre foods excursion. It was true that he had set out to make her disgusted and, thus, willing to end their partnership of convenience. But now, he felt that having Hermione Granger as a real girlfriend, and his first true one in years, would not be such a terrible thing. Surely he could scour the globe and never find another witch who not only tolerated his stunt but opened his eyes to newer and more exciting culinary adventures. 

And so, instead of pulling his trump card, Filipino Balut, he took her to an exclusive restaurant situated in the heart of China’s scenic Jiuzhaigou. The owner was a long-time friend of the family, and his restaurant was built atop a forest of evergreen trees, its transparent walls, floor, and ceiling providing a surreal dining experience. Hermione, who had been admiring the view but weary of what foods to expect, was completely astounded when presented with the starter Emperor’s Soup. Astounded and enchanted. Her wonderment only grew with the dishes that followed: geoduck sautéed with snap peas, steamed tofu with minced pork, chicken lightly coated with sea salt and steamed, beef sautéed with pineapple and young ginger, and steamed grouper with ginger and green onions. For dessert, they had papaya sweet soup. At first, she was on her guard, in case she was presented with something unpalatable, but Draco seemed so friendly and relaxed that she decided to question no further and simply enjoy the meal. She was not disappointed.

For his part, Draco was pleased to see that Hermione was enjoying her meal. After days of over-stimulating their senses, he had ordered some of the simplest dishes on the menu. While sharing a congenial meal, he discovered that when she was young, Hermione had been cared for by her elderly Chinese neighbour, who had conditioned her palate early in life to not fear any cooked meat. She had even gone with her babysitter to the local butcher’s and the farms to see how the animals were killed, skinned, plucked, cleansed, chopped, and packaged before the meat was brought home. The babysitter’s granddaughter was Hermione’s best friend, and the two had traveled Thailand and Malaysia the summer of Fifth-Year. They had fearlessly tried everything they could in those short two weeks, and the experience had only left her wanting to try more foods. She’d had to put those plans on hold for a few years, but since settling into her job, she had made a point of traveling as often as she could. This long weekend adventure had certainly been rewarding, and she thanked him for it.

Caught up in the moment, Draco found himself asking if she was free the following weekend. Would she be willing to go on another Muggle date with him? An unusual Muggle date, please.


	11. Chapter 11

Deciding that visiting an amusement park was not unusual enough—though it would be a novelty to Draco—Hermione chose to give Draco an educational, eye-opening experience. She decided to take him to several science museums. After much consideration—she had to be selective because there was a time limit of two days—she chose exhibits that focussed on (non-magical) human achievements and evolution. 

Their first stop was New York’s Central Park, where they entered the American Museum of Natural History to learn about human evolution. Draco was baffled and curious, but as he read the informative plaques and peppered Hermione with questions, he began to appreciate a topic that had never occurred to him beyond the abstract, philosophical theories: how _did_ humans originate? 

After a stroll in Central Park proper, Hermione whisked him back to London. They took the Underground to South Kensington’s Science Museum. She brought him to the Making the Modern World gallery to show him how the Industrial Revolution was _the_ definitive point in world history, when the magical and non-magical worlds had forever parted ways to become the societies they were now. She smiled indulgently at Draco’s enthusiasm over Stephenson’s ‘Rocket’ locomotive; her father was a train enthusiast as well. Noting this interest, she brought him to visit Energy Hall to give him a glimpse of what technologies had stemmed from that basic steam engine. 

Apple’s first personal computer in the Modern gallery had taken a lot of explanation. Thankfully, there was the Computing gallery on the second floor to aid her; the gallery also explained the significance of Babbage’s Difference Engine and Edison’s filament lamp, which they had seen on the first floor. 

They then spent some time on the top two floors of the Science Museum, where Hermione showed him the history of Muggle Healing. Some of the instruments and their uses shocked Draco for their barbarism, although he was equally fascinated by the machines used in a modern surgical room. 

As a natural progression from the Energy Hall and Computing gallery, Hermione Apparated them across the Atlantic to the National Air and Space Museum in Washington, D.C. Draco was like a little kid. He marveled at the different models and was absolutely riveted by the satellite images in Moving Beyond Earth. 

Feeling that she should give Draco’s mind a break after a day of information, Hermione brought them to an inn located deep in the Redwood Forest of the American west coast. The inn was run by a retired astronomer and his wife; the wizard had insisted that gazing at the stars from the forest canopy was much better than peering through a telescope, no matter how big it was. 

Sunday had them visiting the Museum of Science and Industry in Chicago for their excellent interactive displays. Having bombarded Draco’s mind the previous day, she allowed him free rein to go to whatever exhibits interested him, although she did specifically show him the Genetics exhibit to better his understanding of evolution and medicine. Draco loved NetWorld, having comprehended the principle of computers. Naturally, he loved Flight Simulators as well. 

By happy coincidence, the touring Body Worlds was on display at the museum that month. As with the evolution exhibit at the American Museum of Natural History, Draco was fascinated by how well-preserved the specimens were. When asked to name his favourite models, he pointed to the upside-down skateboarder, the man on horseback, and the pair of acrobats where the man anchored the flying woman.

For their final destination, Hermione catered to his love of potions by bringing him to the Chemical Heritage Foundation in Philadelphia, where she showed how scientists had branched off from their wizarding counterparts since the heyday of alchemy. Draco was enthralled with the instruments, particularly the electron microscope and the spectrometer, and he laughed delightedly at the “chemistry sets” that were built for children. 

They decided to go to Paris for their evening meal. Knowing that she would be reluctant to ask, Draco assured her that it had been an unforgettable weekend. The number of tools and machines that Muggles had made to compensate for their inability to perform magic was truly impressive. He could honestly admit that Muggles had outstripped the wizarding world when it came to computers and space travel. Hermione was stunned but very pleased at her success. She recovered her equanimity when Draco teasingly noted that he now understood why she was such a snooty know-it-all in school, to which she retorted _‘From the vanity of the Malfoys to the pride of the Gaunts, the gods deliver us’_ and adamantly refused to reveal the source of that saying.


	12. Chapter 12

The museum-hopping date having been an unqualified success, Hermione teasingly asked Draco to return the favour. He thought long and hard. Nothing short of extraordinary could top hers. But what did the wizarding world have to offer that she had not already seen? It was the first time he’d put any effort into planning an elaborate date, and he felt a bit like a Plimpy out of water. However, he was determined to get at least a small “wow” out of her.

When she received his owl three days later, Hermione was excited. Even when he set out to sabotage their dates, he had always come up with interesting ways to do so. And so, she was curious to know what he considered to be an all-out affair.

They arrived at a small, Jacobean house. The witch at the door silently provided them with a map. Draco escorted her into a dimly lit room filled with differently sized and shaped basins. He grinned when he saw realization dawn. 

“This is the Pensieve Repository. It’s the largest one of its kind in the entire world. The Healers first started it as a means of temporarily storing memories of patients who suffered from various spell damages. They later found it useful as a teaching tool and an audio-visual library for researching wizards. This house was donated by an eccentric witch, who chose to remain anonymous, and upon her death, she bequeathed the private collection that had been passed down through her family. It was a substantial addition to the growing stores.

“Now, do you want to start with the Famous Wizards room or one of the other ones sorted by subject?”

Hermione was very curious to see whose memories could be found in the Famous Wizards room. Each basin had a tablet that listed whose memories were to be found within. They walked around the room to look at the complete list. Draco pointed out several of his favourites: Beedle the Bard writing the first draft of _Babbity Rabbity_ , Libatius Borage making the finicky Draught of the Living Death, Nicholas Flamel playing chess with “Newt” Scamander, Josef Wronski practising the move for which he was famous, and a conversation between Plato and Aristotle. Hermione smiled at some of his choices and chose to watch Beedle the Bard. Afterwards, she wanted to see Helga Hufflepuff lecture on house-elf rights, Dilys Derwent explain anatomy (she was curious to see the similarities between medicine in the wizarding and non-wizarding worlds), and John Dee “at court”. She was astonished to find a memory of Hippocrates giving a lecture on ethics. Draco told her that this memory was one of three that were found in a safe-hold at Delphi. They moved onto the other rooms.

After they left the Repository, Draco Portkeyed her to Chateauroux for an early supper. He blindfolded her and brought them to a quiet location. He told her that this was the first of his Sight and Sound tour. As he propelled her gently forward, she could hear her footsteps echoing. The air got increasingly cooler. When the blindfold was removed, she stared in wonderment at the beautiful paintings at Lascaux. Turning an incredulous stare at Draco, she finally noticed the guide beside him. The witch produced two chairs set atop a rotating platform. She briefly explained that the cave was preserved as a large Pensieve then spoke a quick incantation. Noise flooded and echoed around them as the primitive painters prepared their materials for decorating the cave walls. Although they spoke a language that was incomprehensible, their body language spoke volumes. Hermione was thrilled to discover that they did not, contrary to popular belief, speak in grunts and that they had a more varied and sophisticated array of stone tools than had been found by modern archaeologists. She watched in awe as they mixed mineral pigments to form paints and begin to draw the outlines of the animals, human figures, and abstracts. The noise level died down as they began their work in earnest. She joined them in their sigh of satisfaction as their handiwork was completed. She gasped aloud after they chanted a spell to make the paintings on the wall come to life, jumping, prancing, walking, running, and dancing across their stone canvases. 

Draco had been more interested in observing her reaction than the activity going on around them. When Hermione gasped, he grinned broadly and squeezed her hand. She spared him a moment and gave him a brilliant smile. She then wrapped her arms about his neck and hugged him. They both remained in that position, watching the animated cave paintings until their creators finally spoke a cessation spell and froze them forever in time. They packed up their tools and disappeared from view. 

Draco was about to ask Hermione what she thought of this first tour when her kiss answered him.

He did not blindfold her as they left the cave, and he chose to Apparate her to yet another cave. This one was surrounded by water, and the crashing of waves echoed and multiplied off the cave walls. He told her this was Fingal’s Cave. 

Another guide came forth to show them inside. Another set of chairs were produced, though they were stationary. The guide then introduced three other colleagues and told them to sit back and enjoy the show. The four spread themselves out and began opening the tops to the four wooden crates on the cave floor. Hermione grinned when she saw “Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes” stamped on the outside. But she forgot everything after they lit the fireworks. 

As the fireworks of all different shapes and sizes crashed against the basalt columns, their orchestrated maneuvers produced melodic sounds. After an initial demonstration of the diatonic scale and a simple melody, the fireworks proceeded to perform the second movement of Beethoven’s Seventh Symphony and Ravel’s _Bolero_. 

Hermione’s stunned silence was gratifying, her tearful smile heart-warming, and her passionate kiss… it performed a symphony of fireworks and music inside Draco’s head. It took every inch of his willpower to bring her home unmolested.


	13. Chapter 13

Because there were so many details to arrange and plan for her charity ball, Draco hardly saw Hermione during those three weeks leading up to the event. They met briefly for lunch or dinner as time permitted, but their conversation invariably led back to the ball. In fact, one of their “dates” comprised of Hermione dragging Draco with her to go shopping for Muggle items for the silent auction. She had gone the day before with Susan and Ginny to choose things that would be of interest to the witches in attendance, but she needed Draco’s help for the wizards. Draco, to Hermione’s eternal amusement, couldn’t resist buying several items for his own personal interest.

The ball was a success. Not that Narcissa had had any doubt. As soon as the ladies of her Afternoon Tea set had announced their intentions of attending, there was immediate interest shown by other wizarding families as well as increased exposure by the various newspapers and witch’s magazines, raising the profile of the ball. The tables were seated to capacity. Narcissa had been very pleased with Hermione’s choice of venue: Dunluce Castle was as elegant as it was remote, and the view out to sea was spectacular. 

Hermione had been incredibly touched when Harry offered to pay for the rental of the castle as his contribution to her charity. She had fallen in love with it as soon as she saw the brochures. Looking around the Great Hall, she was pleased to see more intermingling between the classes than at the Ministry Ball. Was it only two months ago? Her life had changed quite drastically since then and would be changing again very soon, unfortunately. But no, she would not think about that just yet. She didn’t want to ruin her evening.

Draco thought Hermione looked absolutely breathtaking in her form-fitting, ice-blue evening gown. The blue brought out the chocolate mocha of her hair and the warmth of her eyes. He thought he would die a happy man if he could see those eyes every day for the rest of his life. He quietly laughed at himself as soon as that thought crystallized—only two months ago, he had schemed to use this incredible witch as his ticket to freedom. 

As Harry watched them throughout the evening and, later, on the dance floor, he was both bemused and bothered by the way Malfoy looked at Hermione. He wondered if the proud Slytherin would be brave enough to defy his mother’s wishes and choose a life with Hermione. Having interacted with the wizard in the absence of old school rivalries, he had been impressed with how well-suited he was for her. He was still impossibly smug and sarcastic, but Hermione could handle him, and he seemed to have changed his opinion of Muggle-borns. Harry made a mental note to speak to Malfoy at some point in the near future to inform him that he had Harry’s support, should things get unpleasant with Narcissa Malfoy. Harry grinned when he thought of the fun he would have coercing the older woman into accepting Hermione as a daughter-in-law. 

The monies raised from the silent auction surpassed Hermione’s wildest dreams. Not surprisingly, the “appointment for two at Madame St. Just’s” garnered the most interest and conflict as several witches attempted to outbid one another. The prize finally fell to Ursula Parkinson. Hermione had looked very doubtfully at Mrs. Parkinson’s lime green gown with violet-dyed ostrich plumes, but then she remembered that Madame would never allow anyone to leave the shop wearing anything but the most figure-flattering, tasteful clothes. The Muggle items were also huge hits. 

When the last of the guests finally departed, Hermione was left alone with Draco and the cleaning crew. Draco had arranged to have Hermione’s work secretary oversee the closing up of the castle, and he firmly escorted Hermione to the nearby town of Portrush, where she had arranged to spend the night at the inn, in case there were things to oversee in the morning. Hermione had shyly asked if he would like to stay a while and talk, since they had not really had any time to themselves the past few weeks. 

Draco stayed the entire night.


	14. Chapter 14

Draco awoke to an empty bed.

Was last night just a dream? No, the unfamiliar room and the images that his brain started replaying told otherwise. Did he really mention the “love” word? He groaned. He’d made a mess of things. Strangely enough, he wasn’t sorry, but he was unwilling to fully assess the implications of these feelings. He ascertained that she had indeed left the room and sighed. He supposed, with a grimace, that he would have to Owl her “to talk”. He’d had plenty of “talks” with many women in recent years, but the one he planned to do now was a first. What was even more startling was his willingness to come clean with her and his hopes that she would agree to make theirs a real relationship. Her Gryffindor nature was most certainly rubbing off. But then, he chuckled, so had his Slytherin one onto her. She really had put him in his place with that educational Muggle date.

He Apparated home and sent his eagle owl off.

When he had not heard from her after two weeks, he frowned a bit, but knowing that some women were as terrified of the “L” word as men were, he decided to give her a bit more time to adjust.

 _It’s been a month now! She never replied,_ and _she’s disappeared! What the hell is going on?_

_Maybe she doesn’t love you but is too kind to tell you so._

Fear clutched his heart. Could it be true? He had never been on the receiving end of such a situation. He now understood why his past flings had cried and fled from him. 

When Blaise showed up a few days later, he was shocked to find Draco locked up in his room. After threatening to hex the door down, he gained admittance and received the shock of his life. He had never seen Draco so listless and unkempt. Even those terrifying months in Sixth-Year, now that he could look back on them with the knowledge that he currently possessed, did not reduce Draco to such a pathetic state. He failed spectacularly to both get his best friend out of bed and interest him in snapping out of this slump and going out to find oblivion. Shaking his head, he left him alone to wallow.

Blaise was a bit suspicious when he spoke with the calm Narcissa. He remembered how a drunken Draco had told him about the Unbreakable Vow she had taken with Snape. Surely such a protective mother could not be so complacent in the face of such depression? 

Narcissa was no fool and knew full-well what the young wizard was thinking. She assured him that Draco was fine, only recovering from a bout of illness. He was only suffering from self-pity right now because Hermione had not been by to visit and fuss over him. She could not make him understand that the young witch, too, was recovering from the same illness. It seemed they had gotten themselves completely drenched after the charity ball and were now paying penance. 

Having satisfied him, she saw him to the door.

She smiled as she made her way to the vault. She had only just received a letter that morning from Hermione, who had returned the bracelet and apologized that she could not continue with their original plan for reasons that she could not explain at the moment. When things settled down, she would Owl to arrange a meeting to both explain and to discuss another means of repayment for Narcissa’s kindness.

Narcissa took the bracelet from her pocket and smirked. The other charm she had placed on it had been inactivated for a month now. She was sure she would hear from Hermione soon. What’s more, she _knew_ why the young witch had refused to return Draco’s owls. 

She placed the bracelet back with its set among the Malfoy bride jewels.

***

Hermione was at her wit’s end wondering what she should do. This was supposed to have been a business arrangement and a pleasant challenge. Looking back, she should’ve broken things off after he took her to the Pensieve Repository. How could she have been so foolish? And how was she to rectify the situation?

_You could always owl him and tell him the truth._

_Go away! You’re only ever around to add salt to the wound. I didn’t see you stop me from making lo—having sex with him that night._

_Oh, quit censoring yourself: you made love that night. And who am I to get in the way of true love?_

_I’m not in love! I… I can’t be in love._

_Sure you can! You can be a mother, too!_

Yes, she could. And she would. Mum had always warned her during her school years that just one night was enough, so she had to be careful and safe. She should never have stopped listening to her mother.

It was no use sitting there and letting her conscience have free rein. She had to talk to her parents. They had always been her voices of reason, giving her the full picture on all issues. Well, she certainly needed some reasoning now.

***

Her parents were very quiet after she told them the whole story. Luckily, if there was disappointment or disapproval, they hid it well. All they showed was concern.

Never mind that the original plan was ruined and that Narcissa Malfoy would be upset. The important question was: did she love him? Yes. Would she be willing to marry him for the sake of the baby, even if it took time for them to truly fall in love? Yes, but what if he never returned her feelings? 

Her Dad spoke up now: it pained him to talk about this because it meant facing the reality that his little girl was, well, _intimate_ with a man, but, from his experience as a bloke, it was a good sign that Draco had not shouted “ _I love you_ ” but rather told her after… the fact. The timing made it more likely that he truly meant what he said, that it wasn’t a by-product of momentary euphoria. 

But there really was only one way to find out for sure: she had to tell him. Tell him everything. If he truly loved her, he would get over the initial anger at her deception, and he would do the honourable thing, even if it meant going against his mother’s wishes.

She should Owl him soon.


	15. Chapter 15

_Draco,_

_Can you meet me tomorrow in the gardens of Scotney Castle at 9:00 a.m.?_

_Hermione_

 

She did not sleep a wink that night, and so she arrived by 8:00 a.m. Like Parham House, this picturesque location in Kent had always been a sanctuary for her, but she was so nervous today that she had to walk around to calm herself. The nausea had left her with very little appetite, but she had forced herself to eat some biscuits before she left. It wouldn’t do for her to faint before he arrived.

“Hermione!” She had enough time to just turn around before being crushed in a fierce hug. When his grip slackened somewhat, she looked up at him.

“Have you been ill? Are you all right?” They demanded simultaneously. 

She knew that she looked tired, but he looked positively haggard. There were dark circles under his eyes, his cheeks were gaunt, and it seemed as if he had gone some days without shaving because there were small cuts that dotted his jaw. 

“Have you seen a Healer? What did he say? I’d better bring you to the Manor and Floo Healer Artz; I’ve known him all my life. He’ll know what’s wrong.”

“There’s nothing wrong. I’ve just been feeling a bit tired lately. I—I’ve missed you, Draco.”

“I’ve missed you, too. Why haven’t you been answering my owls?”

“I—I was scared. The night after the charity ball, we… do you remember what you told me after, after—”

“Yes, and I meant it! Don’t, please,” he begged as he saw tears forming. “I didn’t mean to scare you, but that night was just… You don’t love me, do you? That’s why you ran away.”

“No! I do, I do love you, but I, I haven’t been honest with you, and I thought you’d hate me…”

“You mean Gryffindors are capable of deceit? Or is this your true Slytherin finally revealing itself?”

“Don’t tease, Draco. You won’t find it funny once I’ve told you what I’ve done.”

She told him everything. How she and Narcissa had cooked up the plan to coerce him to date her. How Narcissa had helped her make the charity ball a success. How she had planned to break things off after the charity ball. How angry she was at herself for not only making a mess of the original plan but also creating an unintended bond between them that made things so complicated. She stayed away because she couldn’t face the possibility that he really did love her and would now hate her for lying to him all this time. She was also at a loss as to how to explain her failure to Narcissa.

Draco was silent for some time. Hermione had not made eye contact with him during the entire time of her explanation and now had her head buried into his shoulder. A gentle threading of his hand through her hair brought her head up.

“You know, I take back what I said earlier. It’s your true Hufflepuff revealing itself. I can’t believe you haven’t realize how manipulated you’ve been all this time. My mother coerced both of us into following her scheme.”

“No she didn’t! I told her I’d repay her in any way possible. It was just coincidence that she was planning on getting you to marry.”

“You’re too trusting, love. She knew exactly what she was doing when she offered to help. She knew you would be anxious to repay her.”

“But the girl she picked out—”

“Was you. Tell me, would you have agreed to her scheme if she told you that she wanted you to be the next Malfoy bride?”

“No, but—”

“She told you that you are the only one immune to my charms and that’s why you’re the perfect candidate, didn’t she?”

“Yes, but—”

“Did you know that my parents bickered all the time in school? They only began dating in their final year, when my father managed to stop their argument by kissing her. Of course, mother has a different version of how it happened. Anyhow, she naturally assumed that our animosity would also turn into the opposite. She’ll never hear it from me, but she got that right.”

“Draco, are you sure you’re not mad? I, _mmphh_ —” When he let her speak again, she finally smiled.

“Well, love, have I got you convinced?”

“I love you, Draco.” 

“That’s good to know. Now, when do you think you’d be ready to marry me?”

“I’m free this afternoon.”

“This—! Well, um, that is, you see... No, that’s fine. In fact, that would be perfect revenge on my mother. Deny her the society wedding she’s definitely been planning.”

“So Slytherin. I actually wanted a quiet, private Bonding because, well, because I’m pregnant and _mmmpphhh_ —”

They knew that there would be an uproar when the families on both sides found out that they had married in secret. So, they decided that only one person could preside over their private Bonding. Although much surprised at their request, Professor Flitwick happily complied and even presented them with a small case of Butterbeer, each topped with a Cheering Charm that would be released upon removing the cap, to be used on unreasonable family members.

They decided to first visit the Manor.

“Draco! And Hermione! Oh, I’m so relieved you’ve found her, Draco. How have you been, my dear? We’ve been very worried about you, haven’t we, Draco?”

“Hello, Mother. May I present my wife?”

“Your—! Well, this is a surprise, I must say! I’d be lying if I said I’m not disappointed that I wasn’t present at your Bonding, but given Hermione’s delicate condition, I suppose it was best to have a private one. I do hope you did it properly and had a legal wizard preside over the ceremony.”

“Are you really not mad that we went behind your back like this, Narcissa? I know it was wrong of us not to inform—”

“How would _you_ know about her delicate condition, Mother?”

“Well, my dear, we can always have a large celebration after the birth. It would be a double celebration, too—and on a grander scale than what I’ve had planned! As for the baby, well, my dear, I couldn’t trust my son not to make a mess of things, and I hope you’ll forgive me for not being forthcoming with you. I can’t tell you how pleased I am to have you as part of the family now.”

“Mother, you haven’t answered my question.”

“The bracelet confirmed it. I’d put a little charm on it that would become deactivated once conception was detected.”

“Did you by chance also put an aphrodisiac charm on it?”

“I wouldn’t go so far as to call it an aphrodisiac charm, darling. It merely enhanced any emotional connection that already existed.”

“I don’t suppose you could tell us if we’re expecting a son or daughter?”

“Of course I can’t. Don’t be ridiculous, Draco! I’m not a Seer. If the child were conceived here, then it would definitely be a boy; the family spells would assure it. Oh, but think: we could be having the first daughter in generations! Oh, my dear, we must get to Paris to buy some clothes for her! Of course, once she’s born, we can have them tailored, but for now, it would be good to have a supply. And then we must choose a wallpaper for the nursery. Do you like florals? Perhaps we should choose one with butterflies or maybe—”

“Mother, you’re scaring my wife. That’s not good for your grandchild. It could turn him or her into a Hufflepuff.”

“Nonsense! According to Muggle medicinal theories, the children of mixed marriages will be far superior to their parents! Oh, imagine another Minister for Magic in the family! Or perhaps the most powerful—”

“Gryffindor since Godric?”

“Draco, really, how could—well, whatever his or her talents are to be, I’ll be very proud. Now, my dear, I think it would be best if you moved in as soon as—Mad Medea! Draco, bring her to your room to rest while I Floo Healer Artz! Oh dear, I’ve forgotten all about the fainting!”

Hermione stirred as Draco laid her onto his bed.

“A very tactical retreat, love.”

“It wasn’t intentional! Your child tends to interrupt at the most inopportune times. Attention-grabbing and rude, just like its father.”

“A true Slytherin, then, without a doubt. You know, if you really are reluctant to move in, we’ll just have to make these fainting episodes occur more frequently—perhaps whenever the topic is raised?”

“We-ell, if you’re not opposed to it, I really _would_ rather we didn’t live here. At least, for the next little while. I know we’ll eventually have to move in. And maybe we could induce heart palpitations later on so that we won’t have to deal with that circus your mother wants to plan to entertain the entire wizarding community.”

“We’ll make a Slytherin out of you yet, my darling wife.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for taking this trip down memory lane with me! hope it was enjoyable!


End file.
